


Only Time Will Tell

by Nenali



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, HL_Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:05:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nenali/pseuds/Nenali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>His name is Louis, he doesn't remember for how long he's been in the streets or on his own – all he remembers is that his mother fell asleep on the ground, and people took her away when she wouldn't wake.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>An AU into which Harry works in an orphanage, finds Louis in the streets and watches him grow up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Time Will Tell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dirrtylarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirrtylarry/gifts).



> To my giftee: this isn't exactly the Daddy kink you asked for but hopefully you still like it!  
> Proofred by Megan R.
> 
> Harry is nineteen in the beginning of the story.

 

 

Harry is the one who finds Louis.

 

It's late fall, and the weather is full of promises for a harsh winter, low temperatures and days of early snow. The cold, biting wind is making him tear up, and though he's only been out for roughly ten minutes, he already can't feel the tip of his nose and ears anymore. He almost wants to give up, go back to the orphanage or enter a pub to seek warmth, but he's running important errands. The kids need more blankets and medicine or else some might not make it through the end of the year. Harry doesn't want to give up on them, not when the rest of the world already has.

 

He's fully aware that his coworkers are using him, taking advantage of the fact that he's a rookie and can't speak up so they can avoid unpleasant tasks such as cleaning the toilets, changing soiled bed sheets or, for instance, go out when the weather is merciless. He doesn’t mind much, though. He's doing it for the children, and he really wants to prove that despite being from a wealthy family, he can work hard and be mindful of others.

 

The sun is setting by the time Harry leaves the last shop, looking down at his list of things to get to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything. He walks past a narrow, dirty alley, and a shudder runs down his spine when hears a clanking noise. He reasons that it is probably a stray messing about and tiptoes in – cats have always been a weakness of his. It's a child he finds instead, no older than five at best, digging through a trashcan, and it takes a couple of minutes for Harry to process it all.

 

“Hey,” he calls out, softly because he might be new to this but he still knows that children easily scare. The kid startles, stares at him with wide eyes before ducking behind trash. Harry only has to wait for a handful of seconds for the child to peek out of his hiding spot, looking worried as if he's expecting to be scolded or shooed out. He's got a dirty face and a mess of knotted chestnut hair, but his eyes are still bright. He can't have been on the streets for too long, praise the Lord. “Are you alone?” he asks, and he gets no reply, but the sad look on the boy's face is answer enough.

He glances at the trashcan – it's situated to the side of a bakery, and though it is probably the best trash to look in, given how late in the day it is, Harry doubts there's even the slightest piece of stale bread left. He remembers about the pastry he bought for himself and tears a good chunk out of it to present to the kid. “Come on, take it, it's alright,” he assures when the little boy doesn't move, just stares at the flaky viennoiserie. Hunger takes over fear quickly enough, and Harry makes sure to hold himself still, appear as least-threatening as possible as the boy eats.

 

“What's your name?” Harry inquires. His name is Louis, he doesn't remember for how long he's been in the streets or on his own – all he remembers is that his mother fell asleep on the ground, and people took her away when she wouldn't wake. Harry doesn't ask for more after that, just holds Louis' small hand in his own and takes him to the orphanage.

 

 

-

 

 

Louis is so quiet through the first days at Saint Nicholas that the nuns mistake him for a shy kid. He only moves when prompted to, keeps to himself and barely talks, to the point where some claim they have never heard the sound of his voice. He doesn't approach the other children either, even those his own age, and stays far away from collective games. Harry knows it's not shyness but distrust, he can see it on Louis' face whenever someone approaches him, and it breaks his heart that such a young person can harbor those type of feelings. It makes him wonder what has happened to Louis, back when he was alone in the streets. He doesn't ask. He's scared to know.

 

Louis does trust Harry, though, if the way he trails off after him is any indication. Harry doesn't know if it's because he's the one who took Louis off the streets or simply because kids love him, but more often than not, an abrupt stop has Louis bump into Harry's leg, and whenever he looks over his shoulder, there's always a pair of blue eyes staring back at him curiously. It makes Harry think of a little duckling, and it's possibly one the most adorable things ever to him.

 

The nuns are not too happy about it, but they've always disapproved of Harry anyway, simply because he's a male, but also because he's too affectionate with the kids when the orphanage is all about discipline, so he doesn't really let it deter him. He just keeps hugging the children when they're scared after a nightmare or when they scrap their knees, singing them lullabies before they go to bed and letting Louis sit on his lap when he reads them stories. They can say or do nothing anyway, only Mother Helena has authority in St. Nicholas, and she doesn't intervene or even seem to be bothered with it.

 

It goes on several months like this. Louis gets out of his shell only when he's alone with Harry, and they bond without any of them even realizing. Harry teaches Louis how to play piano (the only possession he brought with him when he left home), lets him sleep in his bed when he's too scared or overwhelmed at night and pays close attention when he reads and writes his letters. It's fine, until it isn't anymore, and by the time Louis calls him “Daddy” for the first time, in front of everyone, it's too late to do anything about it.

 

They're immediately separated. Mother Helena forbids him to take care of Louis from now on, and there's nothing Harry can do or say about it. “Nurses can't bond with children. Ever,” and her tone is gentle as she says it, as if she's apologizing to him when Harry's the one who made a terrible mistake, let his feelings get ahead of him. He knows he can't bond with the kids, not when a family could adopt them at any moment. It would cause unnecessary trouble, children feeling like they're taken away from family again instead of being accepted to a new one. Harry understands that, but Louis doesn't. He's too young to comprehend things such as feelings and bonding and is left just being confused and upset.

 

Harry feels responsible, is downright heartbroken when Louis cries for his attention from being kept away. He feels like a child is being punished because he, an adult, messed up, and it's unfair. He feels like he's betrayed and is still betraying Louis. He knows it's how Louis feels when he sees Harry taking care and paying attention to other kids, can tell he's hurt, more confused than ever, but it only gets really ugly when jealousy strikes.

 

Louis' behavior radically changes then – he gets moody and stubborn, refuses to obey, and it's a clear case of “if I can't get what I want, then neither should you.” He doesn't take well to authority anymore, yells and puts up a fuss whenever he doesn't feel like doing something (which is increasingly more often), and it makes things take a rather interesting turn.

 

It's morning, and all the boys are eating breakfast but Louis. Despite all the threats Sister Mary-Amelia hisses at him, he refuses to eat his porridge and finds the most creative way to get around it – he promptly grabs his bowl and pours the contents over his own head, crossing his arms defiantly at the nun. The entire refectory erupts in laughter, and Harry himself has to bite down hard on his lower lip, to hide his amusement as he pats on the back of a kid whose face takes a worrying shade of red, as Louis is being dragged out of the room by a furious nun.

 

It is on that day that Louis realizes he can make people laugh and love him for it, and from there, he turns into a right menace.

 

 

-

 

 

“Harry, Harry!”

 

Harry looks up from the teddy bear he is stitching back together to see Liam standing there, looking a bit red and out of breath. He can already tell it's bad news from the way the kid's eyebrows are knitting together, “Niall fell, and he's bleeding everywhere!” he says, and Harry sighs heavily. He doesn't know it's happened but he already knows who's responsible for it.

 

Louis' little porridge stunt spiked the interest of many, especially fun-loving kids. Niall, an Irish boy whose immigrant parents were sent away, was the first one to approach him and never left Louis' side since then. It would be lovely if it didn't mean that Niall never questioned Louis' decisions and followed him everywhere, abided by every wish. Harry can't count the number of times he's found Niall curled up on the floor, doing a strange mix of laughing and crying at the same time. They make sense though, Niall and Louis, in the way that they're both looking for fun in a place that doesn't provide any.

 

Liam is the odd member of the trio. He's gentle and serious and no one knows how or why he befriended such a troublemaker when he's generally so good at following rules and orders. On rare occasions, he's managed to dissuade Louis from doing something stupid or dangerous, but most of the time, his pleas meet a deaf ear. He's loyal though, it's his strongest trait, and it's admirable the way he keeps his mouth firmly shut in order to not betray a friend, even when he looks like he wants to talk just to make sure everyone knows he's innocent. Harry suspects that Louis likes Liam because he keeps him grounded, too, makes him feel like he's got an older brother even though Liam is a year younger.

 

Harry cleans Niall's knee and bandages it lightly, to keep dirt from getting into the wound. He doesn't ask what went down, just glares pointedly at Louis who looks deeply unapologetic. Harry's not stupid – he knows why he's the one the boys come to. If they went to a nun, they would get scolded and possibly punished, whereas Harry always lets things slide. He can feel that there's a bit more than looking for fun when Louis misbehaves, but he never mentions it. Instead, he cleans wounds and the mess the boys make, hides broken objects and does his best to get the chickens out of the dormitory before the nuns can notice something is going on.

 

It's a pattern – Louis gets a bad idea, Niall gets hurt, Liam finds Harry, and Harry pretends nothing ever goes out of the ordinary when Mother Helena ask him about his day. The only thing that changes over the years is that Liam gets slowly corrupted into misbehaving himself, to the point where he starts pulling stunts on his own. Harry is mostly certain that getting him pantsed in front of the youngest nun was _not_ Louis' idea.

 

 

-

 

 

Boys turning sixteen in St. Nicholas is a big event. It's the age where boys are expected to find an apprenticeship and girls to learn about being good wives. Each year, a ball is organized with St. Victoria, a nearby orphanage for girls to celebrate the end of childhood. It's a dance, and even though the boys always groan at the perspective of learning how to waltz, they comply and are attentive to instructions – it is their chance to impress and be near girls. They've reached the age where they're curious about the other gender and what Harry diplomatically calls “nightly activities” as to not get the nuns flustered.

 

On the ball's eve, the excitement is palpable, and it's harder than usual to get everyone to sleep. Louis' bed is unsurprisingly empty, but Harry doesn't say anything to anyone about it, just goes to the backyard where he's sure to find him and nods for Louis to follow him. He leads the both of them to his room and closes the door behind Louis, waiting silently for the boy to voice out his worries.

 

It happens sometimes, and Mother Helena doesn't see anything wrong with it, not now that it's been so many years since the “incident” as they discreetly call it. She's certain that Louis remembers nothing of it because of how young he was, and Harry agrees, though he can feel that Louis and him are closer than they should be.

 

“I don't want to go,” Louis says, and Harry just nods, waits for him to explain as he lights up the candle near his bed. “I don't get what's great about celebrating the end of childhood. What's so great about responsibilities and working. That's just a smooth way to tell us none of us will ever be adopted,” he admits from the tip of his lips, eyes on his feet. Harry bites down onto his lower lip, feeling a pang of sadness hit him. He can't deny the truth behind Louis' words, even if it's a particularly pessimistic way to see things. He can't be blamed for his negativity, though, not when families picked him up and brought him back three times, saying he wasn't what they were looking for or that it wasn't working. It affected Louis greatly, the way it would anyone else, and Harry knows it makes him feel like he wasn't good enough and will never be.

 

It's terribly unfair because Harry knows just how great Louis is, can see it every day. He's mischievous, yes, and a troublemaker, sure, and he's terribly insolent, but he's kind, possesses a heart of gold. While the other boys are too busy trying to steal wine and talk about their exploits, Louis always takes time for the small ones, reading them bedtime stories or making sure they're not cold through the winter nights, even if it means giving up his own blanket.

 

“I can't even do anything. I'm bad at crafts, cooking, and I can't even sell,” he carries on and Harry remembers how Niall had to take over Louis' candles stand because he kept glaring at everyone approaching, “How am I supposed to find a job when I'm useless at everything?”

 

“You don't know that,” Harry replies gently. “I'm sure you'll find something you'll like, and you'll be great at it. Everyone's good at doing something they love,” he assures, and Louis rolls his eyes like he can't believe how much of a sap Harry is. He doesn't say anything about it though. Doesn't talk at all, actually.

 

“Besides,” Harry tries again, looking for something to say to alleviate Louis' mood, “There's a lot of wine at that ball, and the nuns are much less careful when they're inebriated. I'm also sure girls are just as curious as boys,” he adds smoothly, and he can tell he's spiked Louis' interest.

 

“Shouldn't you be telling me about dedicating myself to God or something?” he asks, eyes narrowed, and Harry can't help but snicker at that. “What? You took vows and stuff,” he defends.

 

“ _Silent_ vows,” Harry points out, and he can't help the smug grin that spreads on his face. He probably shouldn't be proud about that, but he wasn't ready to give up on sex back then, still isn't. What he does on the weekends is nobody's business but his own, and if he wants to spend the night with a pretty boy downtown, then he does. He doesn't really believe in God, but if he turns out to be real, then Harry figures he'll deal with him when his time comes. Meanwhile, he's not going to let anyone tell him what is wrong and what isn't.

 

Louis goes to bed looking awed and does participate in the ball. Harry is not surprised when his partner and him disappear for some time or when he comes back looking slightly disheveled. He doesn't ask questions, but he gets an answer anyway when the boys all moan about having not been able to do more than a chaste kiss, “They're not missing all that much,” he mumbles to Harry only.

 

 

-

 

 

At the age of eighteen, any boy who hasn't been adopted is asked to leave St. Nicholas, whether or not they found an apprenticeship. There is no shortage of lost children, and they need room – eighteen is deemed old enough for one to hold his own. In the thirteen years he's been here at the orphanage, Harry has seen very few boys at loss of what to do, they generally all find a job and a room to sleep in.

 

Liam is the first one to leave – he lives in a room above the forge he works at, and whenever he visits, he looks broader and perfectly happy with his new life, smile wide and eyes shining. A year later, Niall is adopted by an innkeeper whose wife couldn't bear children and who claims he's never seen such a jovial and fun boy. After Niall's visits, some boys are suspiciously tipsy, but Harry turns a blind eye to it because he can still remember the way Niall would sometimes cry at night through missing his parents.

 

It leaves Louis alone. The first time he's rejected from an apprenticeship (at a bakery, which he almost set on fire – turns out he really can't cook), he comes back looking absolutely dejected, and in hope to make him feel better, Harry gives him a key to his own room, saying he now doesn't have to ask anymore or wait if he wants to play the piano. It is a blessing, in the way that it brings a smile not only to Louis' face but also other kids whom he plays for. But it is also a curse, for whenever Louis leaves for another job, Harry knows he's failed when he comes back and can hear music through the walls.

 

It is eight apprenticeships in two years Louis fails to get, and each one turns him a little bitterer than the last. He's withdrawn again, barely talks, and Harry gets a strong sense of _déjà vu,_ except this time around, Louis doesn't look him in the eye either. He lets it pass for a while, lets Louis lick his wounds and build back his confidence, but with his eighteenth birthday knocking at the door, it doesn't seem to happen. It's possible Louis' ego has taken a blow too many, and on a day Harry can hear the first depressive notes of Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ , he knows he has to intervene.

 

Harry closes the door and when Louis finally, _finally_ lets himself cry after all these years, he holds him through it and vows to never tell a soul. It is a long moment of him rocking the both of them back and forth before he realizes how good Louis' gotten at playing. It's been a while since Harry has so much as thought about his golden childhood, and he's not sure he can really do something, but he can try. He has to.

 

His piano teacher passed away long ago, but the love for music runs in the family – his son conducts an orchestra that travels all around Europe and accepts to let Louis audition for their recently free spot as a pianist. “I make no promises though,” he warns, and Harry nods, thanks him profusely before running back to the orphanage to tell Louis the good news. He's not a big believer in fate, but sometimes, when such things happens, he can't help but think that it's meant to be.

 

Louis pales when he's told about it and refuses, claims he's not good enough. Usually, Harry would understand. Louis' got a background that left a lot of place for insecurity to settle deep down into his bones, but they have no time for this. He bodily drags him to the piano and glares until Louis practices, lets him leave the room only for food, sleep and hygiene. He's so busy watching over Louis that he neglects his other duties and white panic floods his mind when Mother Helena enters the room on the sixth day.

 

She doesn't say anything, just smiles at Louis and motions for him to play while Harry tries to merge into the wall and disappear. When the song is done, all she does is praise Louis, and when Harry walks her back to her office, she stops only long enough to say words he's not sure he understands.

 

“Some things you cannot fight but don't forget that life always goes her own way.”

 

 

-

 

 

On the day of the audition, it's snowing, and the streets are eerily quiet. Louis is silent, jittery from nerves so Harry talks for the both of them, comments on how pretty their surroundings are covered in white, how snow looks like sugar, and they should build a snowman when they get back to St. Nicholas. The audition takes place into the opera, a majestic building that is impressive enough to quiet Harry down and they push past the doors timidly, waiting for Louis' turn silently.

 

Louis is livid. He keeps talking about good everyone is and how he doesn't stand a chance but Harry keeps a firm hand on his shoulder, to keep him from running away. If Louis doesn't want to believe it's fine, Harry's got enough faith for the both of them, and when Louis' name is called, he turns him around and firmly holds his face between both his hand to make Louis look into his eyes, “My piano teacher would always tell me that greatness comes to those who deserve it. I know no one who deserves it more than you do,” he whispers before gently pushing Louis onto the stage.

 

Harry can see his hands shaking from where he's standing but he plays beautifully, and for the first time after all these years, Harry finally, _finally_ lets himself cry.

 

 

-

 

 

They celebrate Louis' birthday in Niall's tavern. He's the only child who ever remembered his birth date, probably because it's on Christmas Eve, and it's a little weird for Harry to be drinking instead of singing Christmas carols with the boys at the orphanage. Louis pleaded and cajoled him into coming, and Harry accepted, solely because the boy's been worried sick lately and could use some distraction. That's what he tells himself anyway.

 

No one has gifts to give, but they all buy the birthday boy a pint and end up far drunker than they meant to. At least Harry ends up far drunker than he meant to, and both of them stumble a lot on their way back. Louis is happy though, if the beatific smile on his face and the way he sings raunchy songs loudly is any indication.

 

He goes to bed easily though, the alcohol and the cold December air having worn him out, and he's so inebriated he completely misses Harry's cheek when he kisses him goodnight. It's a while before Harry falls asleep, and he doesn't even try to make up an excuse for it.

 

Thankfully, the next morning isn't awkward, just painful. He's woken up by enthusiastic yells, and his first sight is a blurry but elated Louis, “They hired me,” he whispers, and he sounds awed. It takes a couple of seconds for Harry's sleepy brain to catch up and Louis keeps talking about a violinist or clarinetist having come to tell him the news, but Harry can't hear anything over “ _They hired me_.” He sits up briskly, and their foreheads knock together, making his headache come back with a vengeance, “Your love is painful,” Louis complains, and Harry promptly kicks him to the floor.

 

 

-

 

 

Louis is leaving in less than a week for Germany. He doesn't have to pay for anything, just has to pack his belongings, which isn't much, just very few clothes and a comb. Mother Helena gives him back the outfit he was wearing when he first arrived – it's something of a tradition, a way to say “look how far you've come.” Boys burn them in the backyard, a symbolic gesture of putting the past behind them, but Louis doesn't. He packs them, too, and Harry thinks he knows why.

 

Louis spends the little time he has left properly bidding everyone goodbye. He plays with the children, tells them stories. He teaches older ones suggestive songs, and to the oldest ones remaining in the orphanage, gives tips such as which place to go to and what to do to get a discount or even something for free. He apologizes to the nuns for all the trouble, and to everyone's dismay, sneaks a goat into Mother Helena's office.

 

On the Eve of his departure, he still hasn't come to say goodbye, and Harry does his best not to feel insecure about it. He doesn't know what kind of bond they have, never has, and he's not sure what kind of feelings he has for Louis anymore. All it took was bad aim for a goodnight kiss, and Harry's honest enough with himself to know that it's more than a little pathetic.

 

His feet lead him outside, to where he's found Louis so many times whenever the boy's thoughts would get overwhelming. He never meant to go here, but he's glad he did – Louis is leaning against the wall, staring up at the dark sky and that part is easy, this Harry knows how to deal with. He stands next to him and waits until Louis is ready to share and looking for reassurance, “I'm terrified,” he confesses. It shows – there are slight tremors to his voice, and his eyes are wide open.

 

Harry trusts his instincts and drags him into a tight hug, buries his nose into Louis' hair, “You're going to be great. Better than great, you're going to be _brilliant_ ,” he starts, closing his eyes, “You're going to visit so many countries, do what you love and be paid for it. This is the dream, Lou, don't be afraid,” and he doesn't know what else he says from there. It just pours out of his mouth, unfiltered, praises about Louis and promises until Louis sags against him, the tension leaving his body.

 

“I'm going to miss you,” is all he replies and his voice sounds small and sad. It hurts to hear, and when Harry pulls away, it's to look Louis in the eye and tell him about he's going to be missed, too, but he never gets the time to. Louis leans in and kisses him, gently but firmly and Harry just doesn't care anymore – he kisses him back. Now is not the moment for questions or doubts, not when Louis is leaving in a couple of hours and likely to never come back.

 

Louis is far from being the first person Harry kisses, but he's the first time that it feels actually good. It's less tongues rubbing together aimlessly and nicer, pleasant, like slipping into a warm bath. When they break the kiss, they don't have to speak. They tiptoe to Harry's room and as soon as the door closes behind them, the atmosphere shifts into something _raw_.

 

They get desperate and aggressive, tearing at each other's clothes, teeth clanking together. Louis pushes him into the bed hard enough for Harry to bounce on the mattress, for his breath to be knocked out of his lungs. It's not a boy standing before him, not in the way he holds himself, not with the look in his eyes. There's nothing left of the starving child he met thirteen years ago – Louis is all man, sharp angles, hard stomach and strong thighs. He's beautiful and in that moment, Harry wants him so badly he's dizzy from it.

 

Louis straddles him and Harry lets him dominate the kiss, only getting out of his daze when Louis simultaneously pinches on his nipple and yanks hard on his hair. Harry hisses from the pain, and the pleasure makes his hips jerk forward, push into Louis', and their erections sliding together tears a moan out of him. The sound of it drives Harry crazy, both hands flying to Louis' arse to knead on the firm flesh, “Your butt is amazing,” he whispers, sounding properly awed, and Louis actually chortles at that, hand flying to his nose when he hears the noise it makes.

 

Harry gives him no time to be embarrassed. He sits up and carries on, lips brushing against Louis', “You're gonna let me push inside of it, uh? Let me fill you up, stretch you all around my cock?” he asks, using his hold onto Louis' butt cheeks to roll their hips together. From this close, he can see how dilated Louis' pupils are and drinks in the sight of him, all tan skin and flushed cheeks, disheveled hair and hard cock leaking precome. He looks wrecked already and Harry hasn't even done anything yet.

 

“Turn around,” he instructs, and Louis looks confused but complies anyway. Harry has to bite down onto his lower lip to stifle a growl when he's faced with his round arse, quickly reaches around Louis to take a hold of his own cock, “I'm gonna need you to get it real wet for me love, can you do that?” he demands. It's a couple of seconds before Louis leans down and gives the tip of Harry's dick a kitten lick, as if testing the water before he opens his mouth and takes it in.

 

He doesn't seem to really know what he's doing, can't take Harry very far, but it feels good anyway, has Harry close his eyes and force himself to stay still, to not thrust up into the wet warmth of it. He lets himself enjoy it for a rough minute, hands stroking every inch and each body part he can reach before he drags Louis' butt closer to his face. The angle Louis' body is in gives Harry a full view of his pink arsehole, and he ghosts one finger against it, revels in the way Louis sharply inhales.

 

It's a little bit of a stretch for his neck, but he leans forward anyway, nuzzles into him and breathes in the faint scents of sweat and musk. He pokes his tongue out and uses the very tip of it to trace around the rim, feels the way Louis freezes but ignores him. Harry takes his sweet time eating Louis out, alternating between kitten licks and broad stripes over his hole. His cock slips out of Louis' mouth and twitches at the little mewls he starts letting out, making Harry want to take it further.

 

He hardens his tongue and pushes past Louis' rim, pokes inside tentatively. He uses both thumbs to stretch the hole a little bit, give himself more room to push deeper in and lick at his walls. From the corner of his eye, he can see one of Louis' hands gripping hard onto the sheets, and he sobs brokenly, as if he can barely take it. Harry stops messing around and just fucks him with his tongue, lips stretched around Louis' arsehole and when Louis starts pushing his butt into his face, Harry knows he's ready for a little more.

 

He pulls away, ignore Louis' noise of protest and sucks carefully onto his own fingers before pushing one inside of Louis. He wriggles it around to get Louis used to the intrusion and adds another one, starts thrusting them in and out slowly. He keeps the pace for a while, ignores the way his balls slightly ache and concentrates on reading Louis' body language. He pushes a third finger in and stays still, strokes Louis' back and coos at him when he tenses, “Touch your cock,” he advises and from where he is, all he can see is Louis' arm moving but doubled with the sight of his fingers stretching his hole, it's incredibly erotic.

 

He leans in again to suckle on Louis' rim around his fingers as he scissors him and looks for the small bump inside of him. He knows he's found it when Louis gasps and he makes sure to brush and prod at it as he prepares Louis until he's pushing back against Harry's fingers, panting loudly and blunt nails scraping at Harry's legs.

 

Harry feels like he's about to burst, implode from desire, and he takes his fingers out, maneuvers Louis around until he's facing him again. He looks ruined by now, red face streaked with tears, and Harry would boast if the need to get inside of him wasn't so strong. “Ride me,” he pleas, and his voice sounds hoarse, thick with want. He doesn't even think of how Louis may not know what it means, is too far gone to think at all.

 

He watches Louis rise up and moans under his breath when he takes Harry into his hand and brings the tip to his slick hole. He looks a little scared but slowly sinks down, jaw going slack as he takes more and more of Harry's cock inside of him. He's hot and tight, and Harry clenches his teeth hard in an attempt to keep himself grounded, to not fuck into him like a brute.

 

Seconds feels like hours and Harry's relieved when Louis starts to move, circles his hips, and it's evident he has no idea of how to go at this. Harry brings both hands to his hips and guides him, shows him how to roll his hips. Louis settles for a slow rhythm, still adjusting, and Harry reaches out for his cock, strokes him back to full hardness.

 

It feels good, it all feels so good. Harry is overwhelmed by the sight and feel of Louis, the sounds coming out of his mouth. He's hot all over but conscious enough to see Louis can't manage to ride him properly and is getting frustrated, “Let me take care of you,” he whispers, and Louis goes pliant immediately, relief washing over his features. Harry tilts him slightly forward and thrusts up, sets a fast and shallow pace until the tension completely leaves Louis' body, and he visibly enjoys himself.

 

Harry can feel that the slide in is smoother but more importantly that Louis' hips rock down against his. He looks for Louis' prostate, groans in answer to the little whine he gets when he finds it. He's done with slow and gentle, they both are. He plants both feet into the mattress and fucks up into Louis faster. Louis opens wide, unfocused eyes and the sounds that pour out of his mouth are obscene, little cries, whines and moans. He's loud, too loud, and Harry clamps a hand over his mouth and stops moving until Louis nods, frantic.

 

He bites down onto his forearm to stifle his noises, and it's somehow hotter. Harry loses all finesse, forgets about being careful and fucks into Louis hard and fast. Louis is helpless, boneless on top of him and just lets Harry use and pleasure him, eyes rolled into the back of his head and cock bouncing between their bodies.

 

Harry feels like he's not going to last much longer, body tingling and the muscles of his stomach clenching, “So tight, fuck, you feel so good, Lou, you're so good,” he moans mindlessly. “You gonna, unh, come baby?” he asks, and Louis can only nod, eyes squeezed shut and small tears leaking out again. Harry inhales deeply and his pace gets relentless, Louis' hand little helps to conceal his string of “ah, ah, ah.” He drops it out of his mouth when he comes in long spurts all over Harry's torso, cock untouched and crying out, back arching. His ass clenches around Harry's dick, and it's all too much – it sends him over the edge, vision blacking out as his orgasm crashes into him.

 

When he comes back to himself, his blood is rushing through his ears, heart hammering painfully into his chest, and Louis is folded into his chest, body still shaking. They both stay that way for a while, trying to catch their breath, and Harry finds enough strength to lift Louis up and slip out of him. He thinks he hears Louis whisper “finally,” but he's not sure, and when he dares asking, it's too late. Louis is already asleep.

 

Harry wonders if all they went through has been nothing but a build-up for this moment.

 

 

-

 

 

Neither of them say anything on the way to the boat the following day. They just hold hands despite the surprised and disapproving stares, only letting go of each other’s once Louis' luggage is taken inside. Louis hugs him tightly, and Harry hugs back tighter, trying to commit the lines of Louis' body, his scent and the general feeling of it to memory, “Thanks Daddy,” Louis mumbles, his tone teasing, and Harry is not surprised that Louis does remember after all.

 

When he pulls away, his smile is small and sad. They never got around to talking about their night, what they mean to each other but it might not be necessary. They might know anyway, “For all you've done,” Louis adds, and his eyes shine before he turns away and boards in. Harry's throat feels tight, too tight to talk, but it's alright. There's nothing he can say that Louis doesn't already know.

 

He stays on the dock until Louis is nothing but a speck of blue in the boat, until the boat is nothing but a speck of brown in the sea. He thinks of the small boy he found and the man who found himself. He's nostalgic already, misses the both of them, but he's not sad. He looks down at the carving he did while silently bidding Louis farewell – his teacher's words and the number of Louis' bed – and smiles before finally leaving, knowing he will never come back.

 

He's not a big believer in fate, but sometimes, when such things happen, he thinks it's meant to be. Maybe not today, maybe not in this life but someday.

 

_Greatness comes to those who deserve it_

_2010_

**Author's Note:**

> 29/05/14: Hiiii, I'm sorry I haven't answered to everyone in the comments, but I did read and thank you guys! I'm just kind of avoiding this fic because I'm faaar from being happy with it. I'm not playing mysterious, promise.


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